


wine night

by heym00n



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2018 phan, Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, i can’t write for shit whooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:41:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heym00n/pseuds/heym00n
Summary: one evening a week, every week, dan and phil drink wine, watch a sappy movie, and cuddle a lot. is lit.





	wine night

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello i wrote this purely because one of my mutuals said they wanted to read something like this. amy, this for u boo

“right” phil shouted up in a louder-than-inside voice, to his boyfriend dan from the bottom of the stairs. “‘m nipping down to tesco, do you want red, rosé or white for tonight?”

dan though for a second, letting a low ‘hmm’ escape his lips. wine night was a weekly tradition in the howell/lester household: every wednesday without fail. they took it in turns to purchase a new bottle of wine every so often, along with a packet of cashews or pistachios and a party sized bag of crisps, and would put on a rubbish romance movie like the proposal or love rosie. they also took turns in choosing the movie, and phil would often pick the notebook because he knew it made dan cry. it was their favourite part of the week by far, and always left them in a cuddly (slightly intoxicated) heap on the sofa. “get champagne,” he said, before jogging down the staircase.

“it’s not a special occasion though, we’re not celebrating,” phil replied. 

“we’re celebrating how much i love you?” dan gave phil puppy dog eyes, pouted his lip, and snaked his arms around phils neck in an attempt to get his way, his hands hanging limp on the shorter mans shoulders. 

phil, clearly not phased by this, held onto dans arms, kissed his nose and asked again, “red, rosé or white?” the cheeky look from dans face faded and was replaced with a smile. 

“rosé.” the pair locked lips for a brief second, before dan added, “not the one we had last time though, get the other one... the... wha’s it called?”

“echo falls?” phil helpfully supplied. 

dan pulled his arms away slowly, “no, not... actually yeah. that’s not what i was gonna say, but get echo falls. and cashews.” 

dan placed one last peck on phils cheek and began to walk back upstairs, before phil carefully reminded him that they had a bag of pistachios in the cupboard. 

*

phil was back in a surprisingly short amount of time, greeted with a ‘hello’ from dan, who was sat with his legs sprawled across the entire sofa, head buried in the light of his laptop. he took off his coat and hung it in the cupboard, and called out to his boyfriend.

“oh my god, love, there was literally nobody in the queue! i’m not kidding! there was like two people in the whole shop apart from me and the people who work there, and there was only a few people outside too!” a childlike excitement played on his words as he kicked his shoes into the corner. 

“woah, have london become victim of an apocalypse or somethi- hey! stop leaving your bloody shoes lying around!” dan had finally looked up from his laptop, and was now standing up from his signature browsing position. 

“anyway, i saw shirley.”

dan stared. confused, he leaned on the back of the sofa. “phil, we don’t know a shirley?”

“yeah we do, shirley harker!” phil replied, earning a giggle from dan. 

“oh my god, phil. her names shelley!” 

it was now phils turn to become overtaken with confusion. it took him a while, but soon enough, his eyes widened and he remembered. “oh my god! no wonder she looked so uncomfortable when we were talking!” 

they both fell into a fit of giggles for the next minute or so, phil continuously banging his head on dans shoulder and dan stroking his hair. eventually, dan went into the kitchen to get two glasses, the bag of pistachios and two miniature bowls. meanwhile, phil got them both hoodies and joggers to change into. 

once they were cosy, wine glasses in hand, two bowls on the coffee table (one filled with nuts, one for the shells), fireside treats candle lit, the bottle was opened and the night began. 

“what’re we having for dinner tomorrow?” 

“i don’t fuckin’ know, let’s get breakfast and lunch out the way first,” dan replied, exhaustion lying in his voice. 

“we could have quiche?”

“yeah, ok.” 

they rambled together mindlessly for a good fifteen minutes, sipping from and refilling their glasses every so often, before jumping to a topic dan had wanted to discuss for a while. 

“i was looking on rightmove the other day, yeah?” 

phil hummed in agreement, “as you do.”

“yeah, as you do. and, i saw a really nice three bedroom house, it had like wooden-“

phil cut dan off mid-sentence, “hang on, hang on, three bedrooms? why would we need three bedrooms?” he sat in confusion. there was only two of them and they share a bed, why would they need three rooms? he turned to face dan again, and finally realised what his boyfriend had been trying to communicate. “ohhh, ok carry on.” 

the smile on dans face was worth £100, as he continued on. “okay so it had like a wooden decking in the garden, oh my god the garden was amazing,” he sat up straight and shifted to face phil, careful not to spill his drink, “‘s really big, lots of flowers, room for a barbecue, space for a dog and... anyway, the kitchen was a little bit like ours, and the lounge was really nice too: not too big but not too small.” 

phil thought to himself about what it would be like. a world where he would wake up next to dan, a ring on his finger, and run downstairs to flip pancakes with his kids and drink coffee on the decking outside with the love of his life. 

“where was the house?” phil asked. 

“in dorset, quite close to the beach and stuff.”

“mhmm, i’d love to live like near the sea because neither of us have really experienced that,” dan hummed in agreement, “but, i would really, really miss london.”

“oh, of course, it would take some adjusting, but it’s not like we have to do the radio show and stuff now so we don’t particularly need to be in london. i don’t know.” they collectively imagined dates on the beach, fish and chips at sunset, maybe even family dog walks, a miniature dan or phil running away from the waves and laughing at the sea. 

“but don’t your family live down south? imagine bumping into them all the time,” phil questioned. 

“no, i’m pretty sure dorset is the same distance from reading that london is. speaking of parents, have you called your mum this week?” dan secretly loved talking to mrs lester, and would make any excuse for phil to call her. 

“oh, no i don’t think so, s’it alright if we facetime her?” phil replied. 

“sure, go ahead!”

phil reached to the coffee table for his phone, glass still in hand, and fumbled around for a minute before the facetime tune played. 

he started the call with a cheery “hello, mum!”

“oh! hello love! how’re you?” kath lester smiles brightly back at her son from through the screen. 

“‘m good! ‘s been a pretty flat week, to be honest. what about you?”

dan fiddled with his thumbs and smiled as he took a sip of his rosé, contently listening into their conversation. 

“yes i’m good, love, good week. one of the ladies at book club was talking about your tour! her granddaughter got tickets! speaking of, where’s daniel?” 

dan chuckled to himself, and made his presence known with a slightly loud, “i’m here, kath.” 

“oh! hello dibs! how’ve you been?” 

dan shuffled his way to phils side and pressed his cheek against his boyfriends, desperately trying to fit in the frame. “not bad, normal week like phil said.” he slowly began to nuzzle into the crook of phils neck, not taking his eyes off the screen, as his boyfriend and his hopefully-some-time-in-the-future-mother in law spoke about funny things that had occurred in their weeks. he, of course, chipped in every so often, supplying a joke or two, but he much preferred to hear all that the two had to offer. he was completely infatuated with everything to do with the lester family, and wanted to learn about their past and present selves as much as he could. 

eventually, phil ended the phone call and dan looked away from the screen for the first time in ten minutes. possibly too much wonder filled his eyes when phil looked into them, breaking the distance with a chaste kiss. 

“sorry, that was probably really boring for you, listening to my mum talking about her washing machine and stuff,” phil said, fiddling with dans hair as he did. 

“s’alright darling. i do love your mum,” phil hummed his agreement, “she checks up on me a lot, i dunno if she’s told you.”

“mmm, she has. she probably loves you more than you love me.” the look on dans face disproved phils last statement quicker than he had said it. 

dan laughed through tightly sewn lips, “the likelihood of that is very, very thin, mr lester. anyway, it’s like, literally midnight, we should start watching the film before it gets too late.” they both sipped from their glasses in unison, barely breaking eye contact the whole time. 

“babes, it’s half nine, plus it’s not like we have to actually get up tomorrow. if you wanted, we could sleep all day tomorrow,” phil replied, a quiet tiredness evident in his tone, before taking another sip from his glass. 

dan set his rosé onto the coffee table, “let’s wake up at, like, half eleven, make a huge stack of pancakes, go back to bed and eat them for breakfast and lunch. then we can just stay in bed and cuddle, maybe have some sex, if we’re not knackered. and then for dinner we can just have like wagamamas,” dan plotted, subconsciously wrapping phil into a cuddle, a blanket atop his arms encasing them both in warmth. 

“good plan, stan.”

he smiled at phils dumb remark before asking, “right, it’s your week to choose: what movie are we watching?”

“it was between ‘just go with it’ and ‘the notebook’, so...”

“so you chose the notebook?”

“yep!”

*

two hours later, dan found himself sniffling into phils shoulder like it were a handkerchief, not caring about his nose running on phils jumper. meanwhile phil found himself almost tear free, basking in the intimacy of holding dan tighter than necessary, wrapping each individual curl round his index finger as though he was trying to memorise their path. he did have an undying urge to reach for a pistachio, but he didn’t want to unlock from this perfect position: dan on his shoulder, heart on his sleeve. 

eventually the credits rolled and dan pulled away to get a tissue, his hand arriving back with not only that but also his glass of wine. he took a long gulp and set a now empty glass onto the table behind the sofa, next to the empty bottle, his eyes slightly bloodshot from tears and alcohol alike. 

phil, prepared to admire his beauty, was met with an interesting sight then he looked back at dan: he had folded his lip in on itself, sending phil into a fit of laughter. 

“what? does it look that weird?” dan asked, popping his lip back. 

“yes! you look like a hamster-egg cross breed!” phil said through chuckled. from phils fiddling, dans curls had now formed a wave-like quiff on the top of his head, making him look especially eggish. 

“wait what? hang on take a photo of me i wanna see what i look like.” phil happily obliged, and swapped the wine glass in his hand for his phone. “hamster egg...” he said with a ‘tut tut’ noise, “like you’re one to talk, lester...” he said, re-folding his lip

phil giggled, “oi. okay, look at me eggy,” he said. 

he took a few photos from a few different angles, and quickly flicked through them? giggling at every swipe. 

“ok show me, show me,” dan pestered. 

phil turned his phone round and showed dan the horrific selection of pictures, and they giggled for longer than anyone even remotely sober would. 

“oh my god, i DO look like a hamster egg! what the fuck! fucking delete them!” dan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

through laughter, phil managed to mumble “delete it fat,” which only sent them into more hysterics. 

“okay, actually seriously delete them now,” dan said, the laughter fading from his words.

“no! i wanna keep them” phil said cheekily. dan shook his head playfully and tried to snatch phils phone, which ended up with them wrestling on the sofa for a good five minutes. 

phil stares into dans eyes, hovering above his own, and felt his chest swell. “i love you,” he managed, a genuine smile plastered over his face. 

“you more,” dan replied, before planting a kiss on phils lips. 

it could be agreed by both men that night, that they had never felt more at home.


End file.
